A Little While
by EE's Skysong
Summary: She knew how to cope with sorrow. It was just one of many, after all, but this one, she feared, would leave the biggest scar. Smellerbee and Longshot fic, set directly after the Gaang leaves Jet in 'Lake Laogai'. MAJOR SPOILERS. Not quite Longerbee.


Disclaimer: "Make it special for a loved one For a stranger Peace is hard to Hard to come by Extraordinary thing"

(An: I'll admit that "Lake Laogai" had me choked up by the end. I had to write SOMETHING about it… and cross my fingers and hope the fact that they got a VA for Longshot means it's not the end of his and Smellerbee's appearances… Eitaro is just a convenient OC; there were some other people in the treetops, after all.)

Longshot stood sentry, like he always did. Smellerbee took a deep breath and swallowed her tears. She'd save them for later; right now, there were other things that needed doing. She knew how to cope with sorrow; it was just one of many, after all, but this one, she feared, would leave the biggest scar.

She smiled down at Jet and stroked the hair out of his face. Jet, however, was looking at Longshot, impressed. "Knew you had it in you," he murmured, his voice quiet but clear. "Too bad it's not better circumstances."

Longshot shrugged, his hat obscuring his eyes. "It's not going to be a habit," he replied, sounding slightly horrified by the idea.

Smellerbee glanced at him, but her focus went back to Jet almost immediately; her surprise at Longshot's small speech was also being saved for later. "Shh…" she murmured to Jet.

"Keeping my mouth shut won't stop me from dying, Smellerbee," said Jet, a hint of his old grin on his face.

Smellerbee's breath caught; Longshot's fingers trembled. "Don't say that," both of them chorused.

Now his grin really was back. "You guys are the best, you know that?" He closed his eyes and did not open them again. Smellerbee had to close her own as his inhalations slowed. Even Longshot put down his bow and ducked his head when they finally stopped.

A few quiet tears splashed on the stone below. Smellerbee looked up when she felt a hand on her shoulder. "We can't just _leave_ him here," she whispered. Longshot squeezed gently and shook his head. It seemed that Jet's death had made him retreat back into his silent armor.

By the time they finally came out of the tunnel beneath Lake Laogai, long after the Avatar and his group had moved on, both of them were wrung out physically and emotionally, but they still managed to take Jet a good distance away from the place that had ended his life. They buried him beneath a cherry tree in an orchard. It was fall now, so the skeletal tree offered no shade, but it was a better place than where they had been.

Smellerbee sat down beneath another and finally let herself have a proper cry. She was surprised again when Longshot sat beside her and put his arms around her, burying his face in her hair. Then she hid her face in his chest. If she heard a few hitching breaths from above her, she didn't mention it.

They fell asleep like that as the moon rose. No soft beams fell on them, though, as if Princess Yue knew how much they needed the rest.

O-o-O-o-O

Longshot woke up first, slowly opening his eyes as the midday sun touched them. For a moment, his mind scrambled to remember where he was; if he was in the treehouse, such lateness would have meant no lunch. But no… he was outside Ba Sing Se, and… unconsciously, his arms tightened around what he was holding. He looked down, startled to find Smellerbee was still in his arms.

After a moment's indecision, he leaned back against the tree and let her sleep. She would take it worse than him; Smellerbee's love for Jet had been different than his. Sleep could only help. He gently stroked her cheek before closing his eyes.

O-o-O-o-O

Smellerbee nearly slept the clock around. The sun was about to set when she finally stirred. Unlike Longshot, she awoke knowing exactly where she was; it was as though the memories of yesterday had been waiting for her to wake up so they could spring and torture her all over again. She did the deep breath trick again; if she started crying now, she wasn't sure when she'd stop. She wiggled out of Longshot's hold and smiled at him for a moment. He looked so different when he was asleep… more like his voice. Softer.

She wandered off to wash. She made sure her river ran away from the lake.

O-o-O-o-O

Longshot returned to consciousness slowly again; he was losing his touch. Smellerbee was now sitting cross-legged in front of him, cleaning her daggers as though they were her children. He knew what she was really doing, though: trying not to think. He would have done the same thing.

When she noticed him watching, she set aside her weapons and rested her hands on her knees, studying him. "So what now?"

Longshot raised and lowered his shoulders slowly. He patted the trunk of the tree, wishing he had similar strength.

"We can't go back to Ba Sing Se… back home?"

He looked up with a small frown.

Smellerbee could tell what he was thinking. "It's not going to be easy… but since when has that applied to us? We've got nowhere else."

After a moment, he nodded. Without looking at her, he brushed some of the dust away from the spot beside him. Smellerbee got the hint and moved over, leaning against him.. He put his arm around her as the sun slowly set.

O-o-O-o-O

They woke up together the next day at a more reasonable time. Longshot guessed by the position of the sun that it was about nine in the morning. He got up and pulled Smellerbee to her feet. She yawned and noticed he was staring at her. "It's not like we have to pack," she pointed out.

Longshot nodded and cocked his head.

"We're walking. I'm not dealing with those people… and I won't mind if it takes us longer. We need the time."

He nodded again and put a hand on her shoulder, giving her the same fierce look as on the ferry.

She covered his hand with hers, meeting his eyes this time. "We'll be fine. We always are."

The two started off, walking slowly without speaking.

O-o-O-o-O

It wasn't a short trip back to their tree dwelling; in fact, they took pains to make it that way, traveling on out-of-the-way roads and avoiding villages and people in general as much as possible. Smellerbee, for the most part, was as silent as Longshot. They both knew that returning home would force them to deal with Jet's death in a way that the immediate aftermath had not.

Although they were in close quarters, things weren't awkward; they were the oldest of friends, after all. They knew when a silence didn't need to be broken.

And even if this one did, neither of them wanted to, so why bother?

O-o-O-o-O

Eventually, they nicked a pair of ostrich horses from an unwary soldier. He wasn't Fire Nation, but if he was silly enough to leave his animals out in the open without even tying them up well, that was his fault. And it was certainly better than going on foot.

The soldier wanted his horse back, though, and he brought friends when he tracked down the pair. It was almost ridiculously easy to defeat them.

It was almost like old times; Smellerbee had her fierce face on, and Longshot was smirking slightly, like he always did when someone defeated themselves. But when the two of them looked at each other, the moment shattered. There was a distance between them now, something that didn't seem like it could ever be filled. It had opened that day at Lake Laogai, but neither of them had noticed then; there were more important things to be dealt with. And then it had closed again for a while, when the two of them huddled together, raw and fragile, beneath a tree that gave no shelter.

Now, when they looked at each other, that distance was all they could see.

O-o-O-o-O

Days and days and days later, Smellerbee finally spoke. "We're within a day's ride," she murmured, staring into their fire. She didn't have to specify of what.

Longshot nodded, snapping a branch over his leg and tossing the halves into the blaze.

She looked up at him. "You spoke. How come you never did before?" The question hadn't bothered her before that moment, but in the first "conversation" they'd had in months, it started niggling. Now that she could think straight and was putting her mind to it, she knew she wanted to talk and have him answer, instead of her having to guess what he meant. It wasn't a problem, of course, but it was the principle of the thing.

Longshot took one slow, deep breath: in seven counts, hold seven counts, out seven counts. He tossed a small branch into the fire and murmured, "I couldn't." He touched his throat, his dark eyes unreadable. "The words wouldn't come."

Smellerbee drew her knees up to her chest, nodding. She knew that whatever had happened to his village had left a physical mark; it was why he wore bandages. It made sense that it had left a mental one as well. "Some scars run deeper than others," she whispered, touching her chest.

"Yes," said Longshot, watching sparks rise from the fire.

"I'm cold." Smellerbee's voice was still a whisper.

Ordinarily, they sat on separate sides of the fire. It wasn't something they did on purpose; physical closeness would have necessitated emotional closeness, and that simply hadn't been possible on their journey. The two of them had needed the time alone to reassemble their broken souls and figure out what they wanted.

That night, though, they sat together, their arms around each other and their eyes closed tight against the sadness.

O-o-O-o-O

The problem with traveling light was that breaking camp meant only putting out the last of the fire and storing their bedrolls. The two of them made the simple tasks last forever, though; when they finally set out, it was nearly noon.

They did not speak as they rode, but the silence wasn't the same. Instead of drawing strength from themselves, they drew it from each other, exchanging glances often and nodding in silent agreement.

They rode quickly and reached the treehouses by early evening. There were still people living in them; there were many others who had taken to the trees after the Fire Nation had hurt them. None of the core group was still there, though. The Duke had left after the dam incident, and Pipsqueak had gone with him. The Duke wanted to find somewhere he wasn't reviled, and Pipsqueak was just happy as long as he had someone to think for him. Sneers had just left one night. Soon after had been when Jet had decided to go to Ba Sing Se.

Smellerbee tied up their ostrich horses as Longshot went over and knocked on the trunk of the main tree. "Who's there?" came a voice. Longshot was _not_ in an accommodating mood. He nocked an arrow and fired into the canopy. A vine slithered down toward him. "Sorry, Longshot." Longshot rapped again, and another vine came down. Smellerbee came over, and they took the express route to the treetops.

The owner of the voice was waiting for them with a broad grin. His name was Eitaro, one of the older orphans who had lived but not fought with the Freedom Fighters. In Jet's absence, it appeared he had become the boss. "Hey. Been a while." He put his hands on his hips and looked them over, his grin dampening a bit. "Didn't Jet come back with you?"

Both looked away.

Eitaro swallowed hard. "What happened to him?" he whispered.

Smellerbee shook her head. Longshot slipped his hand into hers. "Get everyone else," said Smellerbee. "I'm only saying it once."

They gathered in the main room of the treehouse. Smellerbee and Longshot had always garnered some respect; Longshot was one of the oldest members of the group, and no one ever underestimated Smellerbee twice. Now, though, they were respected simply because of who they were. Smellerbee's fifteenth birthday had come and went, and she was actually starting to look like a girl. Their time in Ba Sing Se had turned what could be mistaken for sullenness in Longshot into the quiet authority of adulthood. Smellerbee's voice was steady as she recounted the events leading up to Lake Laogai, but it broke when she told of finding Jet and Aang.

Longshot took her hand again and finished the tale in a quiet but clear voice.

If there was a dry eye in the room, it was because the owner simply couldn't let themselves believe Jet was gone.

O-o-O-o-O

They dodged as many questions as possible and snuck outside as the moon rose. Smellerbee finally released months of repressed tears. Longshot sat beside her the whole time, their fingers laced. He tilted his head back into the moon's light. Tiny moonbeams ran down his cheeks and splashed on his shirt.

It took a long time for them to stop, but when they did, Smellerbee knew she was finally rid of her grief. Jet was dead, but he was also free. _They_ were free. "We're ok," she murmured.

Longshot nodded, taking her into his arms. She leaned against him.

"I don't think we should stay here, though," Longshot said finally.

Smellerbee shook her head, her eyes half-closed and her voice sleepy. "It's too much. It's too _different_ without him. But where else do we have?"

"Don't think about it yet. We're together. We've got all the time in the world."

There was a hushed anticipation in the air between them now, but neither of them felt the need to put a name to it just yet. Like their destination, it could be dealt with in the morning. They fell asleep together again, and everything was perfect for a little while.

(I'm really proud of this piece. It wasn't quite what I was expecting to write- I was hoping to have some proper fluff in there, but it just didn't seem appropriate- but it works well. I might do a sequel just because I've got such a jones for this couple right now… but 'til then, review!)


End file.
